


Drifting

by HagMoon



Series: 50 Words for Snow [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers AU, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Other, Post-Ragnarok, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Snow Themed, Suicidal Thoughts, city life, gender neutral reader, winter themed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24534964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HagMoon/pseuds/HagMoon
Summary: Loki muses over his Jotuun heritage and your liking for the colder weather.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: 50 Words for Snow [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773178
Kudos: 42





	Drifting

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of suicidal thoughts and self-hatred, but nothing graphic. Please enjoy!

Winter on Midgard must have been Loki’s most pleasant time of the year. Aside from having a natural affinity to the cold, it was a time to become intricately observant of humans and their bizarre behavior during the season. Admittedly, he wasn’t too experienced with whatever annual celebrations humans would participate, but he maintained some distance towards everything.

Adjusting to life on Midgard was challenging as most would expect, especially while having the Avenger’s breathing down on the back of your neck constantly. However, Loki made due with obtaining as much knowledge as he could, simultaneously hoping the preoccupation would keep his mind busy with unnecessary temptation. Although he could never really escape his natural trickster nature, most declared he was on his ‘best behavior.’

Loki took a special interest in observing you of course, just like a creature in its natural environment. You didn’t possess powers or other worldly abilities, you were simply human, flowing along with the tide of daily human nonsense. His curiosity continued to get the best of him while keeping watchful eye on you. He found the duality rather interesting, taking note of your sudden eagerness with the first snowfall of city. He had taken you as someone rather reserved, carefully choosing what you’d say towards others and towards him. But as the temperature dropped, you began to slowly crawl out of your shell, dragging Loki along for the ride.

As streets began to pile up with blankets of white powder, your eyes would widen, and a child like smile would form over your face, causing your cheeks to become reddened. You easily became cold, again, an observation he had taken upon his spare time. It would only take a couple of minutes for him to begin noticing your reddened nose along with shivering lips. He would often ask you if you were cold, or if you wanted to go back inside for some warmth, but you’d say otherwise, affirming your enjoyment for the coldness upon your skin.

Further into the month, the weather became increasingly severe, dropping dramatically and resulting in days on days end of snowfall. The streets would become landscapes of mounds of snow, halting much of the traffic and daily business. Howling winds would ever so often surround the city as well, piercing with intense coldness, but nothing that would phase Loki.

The cold, staggering darkness of Jotuunheim would have probably killed you and any other human within minutes. He recalled his encounter on Jotuunheim many years ago along with his brother and the others. The catharsis of his origin, the feeling of his blood running as shards of ice throughout his entire body, and his skin turning blue upon the reflection. Loki would at times replay the inevitable truth in his mind, as much as he would want to convince himself otherwise.

He was a frost giant. Albeit, a small one, but still a monster of ice and death in its entirety. He felt his nature would oblige him to become unbothered by the weather and the coldness, but in reality he detested it. He wished hot blood would run through his veins instead of this, warming and flushing his skin all over. He wished the howling coldness would stop mocking him and take him back to his origin and his birthright, to have died on a frozen rock.

Nevertheless, he fought it, through gritted teeth and through his own personal lies.

He encountered you once more on the outside, mindlessly kicking piles of snow and eagerly stepping on the crunching snowflakes. You were dressed in casual Midgardian winter gear, but even Loki noted whatever you were wearing was way to thin to fight against the chilling air. With arms crossed, he stepped up towards you, ready to lift up his chin and scold you upon your carelessness.

“Are you aiming to become ill?” He asked, startling you for a bit. You peeked up at him from under your beanie, shooting a quizzical look. “Your fragile human physique is not meant for this type of weather.”

“I’m not gonna stay out all afternoon you know, I just wanted to get some fresh air.”

He raised an eyebrow, again instantly recognizing your red nose, red cheeks and chapped lips. Your breath was visible in the air, and he noted your glove-less hands trembling as well.

“There are specs of ice forming upon your lashes already.” He pointed out, fighting the urge to gently brush them off from your eyes. “I’d rather not have to care for you if you become sickened by the cold.”

“My god, I’m not even that cold. Look, feel my hands, it’s not that bad!” You exclaimed, holding out your hands in front of him, wiggling them playfully.

Loki stepped back a bit, startled at the unexpected request from you.

_Feel my hands_

He couldn’t. He knew you wanted to reach out to touch for a hint of warmness within him, for the opportunity to possibly warm your feeble hands with his. It was absurd, first of all, wanting to touch a human so casually as such. But most importantly because it was just impossible.

He cringed at the thought of your cold hands meeting his sharp, colder skin. It would be utterly disappointing, and would further drift him away from the chance of developing anything further with you, or with anyone from this world. He would have to pass over the moment, shielding you away from the truth once more.

“Fine, I believe you. That is _unnecessary._ ” He commented, hiding the fear in his voice with a layer of mockery.

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, or else you’re not gonna stop bothering me about it.” You retorted, reaching out to firmly grab his own hands into yours.

He twitched slightly, attempting to stand tall and proud without making it apparent of the agonizing position you were putting him in. He felt your hands, which were indeed cold, clasp around his own, your fingers circling over his own longer ones in one inescapable hold. His eyes darted back and forth, attempting to fight his body’s reaction to run away or potentially hurt you. He really, did not want to hurt you. “Woah.” You said lowly. Loki was well prepared to yank his hands away from yours harshly and walk away, furious at your persistence and at himself for existing in the first place.

“Your hands are so warm Loki.”

“Pardon?” He asked. His voice cracked, but you were not able to notice it.

“Just, you’re really warm. No wonder you don’t need to wear a jacket out here.” You chuckled, still holding onto his hands tightly, soaking up all of his heat onto yours.

It was impossible, you must have been _lying_. This was the only explanation.

Loki mused over this dilemma, slowly pulling out from your grip. He felt you respond to him, releasing your fingers from their old, almost wistfully. He looked down at your hands, seeing you shoving them back into your coat pockets.

“You should come inside to get some warmth.” He said softly, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Hmm, you’re right.” You replied, and he caught onto the slight giggle in your throat.

“Is something amusing to you?”

You shook you head. “Nope, just didn’t realize how much I’d like holding your hands like that.”

Loki felt a heat rise from his chest, sending a warm wave of blood into his cheeks and hands, almost familiar and almost welcoming in its nature.


End file.
